Beauty is Only Skin Deep
by suckittrebec
Summary: Set during MGS4. A re-imagining of the battle against Screaming Mantis, one that strikes a little closer to Snake's home.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This is Konami's story. I'm just borrowing it.

Part one of two (I think) of my re-imagination of the battle between Snake and Screaming Mantis. I'm not making a statement about any flaws in MGS4's story, there is only one in my approximation and I will address that at a later date, but rather just an idea I had about something that could have been a cool little addition and connection to the original Metal Gear Solid.

Enjoy the cliffhanger first half, and gimme a shout about what you think.

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Beauty is Only Skin Deep

Part I: The Surface

_Damn it, I'm too old for this. _Snake thought as he dove behind a pillar, dodging one of Screaming Mantis's thrown blades. He switched out the spent M-4 clip for a fresh one as another howl filled the room.

"SNAKE!"

_Coming, dear._ He thought with a cough that sent shooting pains up his side. His position compromised by the sound, the hero/mercenary/criminal leaped out from his cover, weaving between the bullets unleashed by the few remaining resurrected FROGS and cutting them down as he went. _How is it that everyone except me gets a new goddamn body to inhabit when the old one wears out?_

After clearing the nearby area of the ash-composed forms of undead, Snake swung his rifle to the center of the room, searching for the multi-armed, sickle flailing, corpse wielding puppet master of The Beauty & The Beast squad. He found her remaining voodoo doll in his iron sights, but the beast struck first, striking him with one of her ethereal-esque blasts. His reprisal was only instants after, but as soon as he squeezed the trigger his vision blurred and his arms jolted upward, sending the burst into open air. Cursing, Snake took off again, flipping out the hypo of nanomachine suppressant and jamming it into his neck.

Feeling his body returning to his control again, he turned his attention back to the hologram of the Earth that Mantis usually floated above, shouldering the carbine for another strike. It took an instant to realise that, instead of looking out over the room, he was staring down the muzzle at Meryl's horror-twisted features, as well as the gaping maw of her Desert Eagle.

"Oh hell..." was all he managed before his combat reflexes threw him to the side, just as the thunderclap of a .50 calibre bullet tore into the room. He felt the slug miss his head by mere centimetres as he moved away, but that sensation was secondary to the sting of the point-blank GSR blazing into his uncovered eye. Impulsively covering the injured organ with his free hand, Snake stumbled backwards and swung his rifle down hard on his comrade's firearm before the manipulated girl could be forced into shooting again. The massive handgun flew free of the woman's hand, landing with a loud thud at the floor just before Snake kicked it away.

"I'm sorry Snake..." Meryl moaned, tears welling up in her wide, pleading eyes.

"I know, Meryl." the grizzled warrior replied, before with much unspoken remorse he brought the butt of his M-4 back across her face, knocking her out. She fell like a stone, Mantis no longer able to exert any influence for the time being. He winced at the sound of her unconscious body hitting the floor, but could scarcely afford any more time to think about it as Mantis herself swooped down at him, her blade's whistling lethally around her.

"I want to hear you scream, Snake!" she shrieked in her strange dual layered vocalizations. She swung for his neck, and followed his dodge with a jab towards the stomach. Narrowly escaping decapitation and disembowelment however, left his limbs too exposed to completely avoid the hooked knives once she went after them, and she managed to slice into both his forearm, and somehow his shin at the same time. With a grunt, he fell to his knee, depressing the trigger of his gun while he fell in desperation. She dodged the fully automatic clearing of his clip, but instead of pressing her advantage and finishing him off while he had nothing left but what amounted to a fancy looking club, she zoomed in, kicked his rifle away, and hovered back into his line of sight, crossing her many arms.

"You can do better than that, Snake! This doesn't end until the air rattles with the echoes of your terror!"

_We're going to be here a long time then _Snake thought as he regained his feet. Despite the pain from his new wounds, he smirked at the malicious creature in front of him.

"But then, that won't come from fear of death, will it..." Mantis mused, brining one of the false hands to the chin of her faceplate, stroking it. For once, she spoke rather than wailed, seeming genuinely perplexed, but no less frightening. In fact, it disturbed him more than anything she had done since he stepped into the Ark's control center, and he slowly began reaching for the Operator he still had tucked into its holster.

"How to reawaken your panic, how to revive your horror... what frightens someone who is already dead..." She looked about the room, her eyes falling on the Meryl, who was slowly regaining consciousness. "Ah! I know..."

Once he realised what was about to happen, Snake abandoned subterfuge and ripped the .45 out of its cloth sheath and brought it to bear in a motion so fast the weapon's inertia almost pulled it from his palm. But Mantis already had captured her prize and had lifted her to the center of the room, cradling her like a wounded child. Too far away to risk making the shot with a short barreled weapon like the Operator, Snake franticly leaped over the banister before him and began bounding from terminal to terminal, as Mantis levitated Meryl into a standing position before her. Then the post-traumatic stress victim turned inflictor began cooing grotesquely, running a hand along the other woman's cheek.

"Wake up, my darling. Open your eyes; you can rest for eternity in a moment."

Meryl's eyes fluttered open just as Snake made it to the depression in the very middle of the room. Mantis allowed enough time for her prey to realise where she was before whipping into a tornado of razor-sharp metal centered around her.

"NO! Damn it Mantis, this is between you and me!" Snake growled, trying vainly to follow the blur swirling around the coronel's daughter.

"HAHAHAHAHA! But what is you and me, Snake!? We are nothing but what those around us have created! Friends! Enemies! Nameless tormenters! They determine who you are! This woman is as much a part of you as your own flesh and blood; she helped create you! Just as the ghosts of my past are what created me!" Mantis squealed with bloodthirsty glee as her sickles sliced away at Meryl's uniform, sending shredded pieces of kaki and leather in all directions. Snake, giving up on shooting Mantis, shuffled over to where he could see Meryl's face, dodging half of a combat boot as it came flying away from the maelstrom on the way.

Meryl's face was a portrait of fear, eyes and mouth sealed closed, her head pulled down into her shoulders in an effort to block out the horror surrounding her. But no tears ran down her cheeks, and no sound issued from her lips. His pride in her swelled; whatever stand she could make, she was making it. Mantis seemed to notice this as well, spinning out of her flurry and wrapping herself around Meryl, who had been stripped of all but the bodysuit she wore beneath her combats. Floating all around, each of the beast's remote hands pressed a knife to her neck.

_Damn, she's too close to her. I don't have a shot._

"She is strong, as you are, Snake," Mantis said, in the hollow approximation she had of kindness, which dropped with her next sentence. "But is she as unfeeling? Is she as heartless?!"

"S-Sn-Snake! Get out of here!" Meryl cried, daring to open her eyes and locking glances with him. Snake shook his head decisively.

_I left you at the mercy of someone like her before. Never again. _

Mantis lolled her head backwards from Meryl's and turned her expressionless faceplate towards him. A surreal hush fell over the room for a moment, but it was far too fleeting.

"Let's find out together, David."

Solid Snake didn't have an instant to protest, to even think about how she knew his name, before Mantis again transformed into a whirlwind. This time, however, she did not hold back, and soon he completely lost sight of Meryl in the cloud as it became reddened with jets of blood. She lost control after only a few seconds of the vicious onslaught, not that he blamed her, and began screaming just as Mantis demanded. The hideous sound of her agony cut into his soul with the same ferocity that the beast cut into her flesh, and any worry of hitting her with an errant bullet became immaterial. He opened up at the crimson mist above him, shooting for the edges, with only a prayer to guide the bullets to their mark. Undaunted, Mantis taunted him over the cries.

"SNAKE!! DO YOU HEAR IT?! DO YOU HEAR HER SCREAMS?! Think of it, the last thing her soft skin will feel is the caress of my blades. The last thing her pretty blue eyes will see is the spray of her own blood. Will the last thing she hears be the silence of a man who felt nothing for her, even at the moment of her death?"

On his knees, depressing the trigger of an empty gun, with tears running freely from his eyes, Snake broke. His arms fell to his sides, his handgun dropping uselessly from his hand. Meryl's voice rang out in his head.

"_Can you shoot me rookie? --Careful, I'm no rookie."_

"_Just what I'd expect from the legendary Solid Snake. You trying to sweep me off my feet?"_

"_Y'know... I don't use makeup the way other women do... I hardly ever look at myself in the mirror. I've always despised that kind of woman."_

"_I promised... I wouldn't slow you down! I... I... I can still help... I want to help you!"_

"_During all the pain and the shame there was one thing I was sure of... a single hope that I held onto... And that hope kept me alive... Snake, I wanted to see you again..."_

The playback faded with Meryl, her howls dying into whimpers as another fragment of cloth fluttered down from the chaos above. Almost as if guided, it came to rest in front of him, and Snake picked it up. It was her bandana, one and the same with the one they had made their unfulfilled covenant of living for each other over, a lifetime ago on Shadow Moses Island. Torn, bloodied and tacked with stands of Meryl's red hair, he clutched it against his torso as the pain and sorrow that had welled up in his chest exploded out of his body, filling the quiet that her now absent voice had left behind.

"Meeeeryyyyylll!"

"Now _that's more like it_ Snake!" Mantis cackled in delight, stopping dead and casting the limp, scarlet stained body of his comrade, his friend, across the room with a gesture. She lunged again, knives thrust forward. "The sound of your pain is delicious."

_Forgive me. _Snake thought numbly, rising in what felt like slow motion. His mind was a storm of emotions, most of which rarely passed through his mind. One over-riding thought, however, was familiar, and roared through the din clear and undeniable. Mantis too seemed to slow, and the sound of his heartbeat drowned out all but the beast's most vapid screeches.

_I'm not the hero you thought I was._

Drawing his carbon-fibre combat knife, Snake made a promise that, even if it cost him his life, and with it the free world, he would kill Mantis with his bare hands. For an old dog of war like him, it was all he could do; all he knew. Taking an upright CQC pose, Snake took in a ragged breath and steadied himself, both emotionally and physically. The parry to Mantis' all-out attack would have to be perfect, because he would not have another chance.

_I'm nothing!_

He waited until he could see the glint of the sickles' blades before he moved, diving into the sea of arms an instant before the knives struck. This threw off the beast's timing just enough that she could not plunge the blades into him as she had wanted, instead having only the time to drag the tips across his body, leaving trails of increasing depth from his shoulders all the way to his shins. The arms had adapted enough by the time they reached his calves to have gouged into his muscle tissue, making any meaningfully fast motion impossible, but his gambit had paid off. With the tip of his own knife protruding from its back, Snake grabbed a-hold of the second voodoo doll.

_Meryl, I'm sorry._

"My doll!" Mantis screamed, turning tail and zooming away as he rose, taking out the first marionette he had retrieved. He wasn't one who believed in providence, but the opportunity for poetic irony these items presented was too great to ignore. Each one had differing capabilities, one seemingly able to control the living while the other reanimated the dead, but he figured it would be best to use both and be sure. Flicking the puppets as Mantis had, he watched with grim satisfaction as the woman snapped back like a parachute had been opened, and he instinctually swung the dolls downwards. As he had hoped, Mantis followed, stopping only when the ground beneath her demanded she did. Her body shattered the holographic projector below, sending up a shower of sparks and collapsing the massive photonic globe. As the exposed conduits began to short-circuit across Mantis' body, she screamed again.

But this time it had no extraneous phonic effects, just one voice; Meryl's, recorded from just moments ago. Mantis's way of tormenting him, even in her defeat. Filled with a rage that paled any he had felt before it, Snake tightened his grips on the dolls and swung them around with all his strength. Again, Mantis was dragged along, smashing through any obstacle she ran afoul of.

_Forgive me._

A full five minutes later, Mantis' body was reduced to a heap of fragmented bones held together only by her jumpsuit, the armour bent and broken around her natural limbs. The cybernetic arms were long left behind, some burrowed into walls, others broken into dozens of pieces that lay scattered across the room. It wasn't enough, not by a long shot, to repay what she had done; the only reason he had stopped was his arms had begun to tire at the out-of-control flailing.

Snake advanced on the motionless, almost formless body in front of him, resisting the urge to pummel it once he reached it. His codec toned, perhaps not for the first time in the last few minutes, but he ignored it as he flipped over what his hands confirmed was nothing more than an over-tenderized sack of meat. Remarkably, the mask had remained intact, though the lights that ringed it were all broken, and it sported a large indentation from when she had careened headfirst into one of the steel support beams for the rooms upper-deck.

He began feeling around the helmet for a release clasp, assuming it was the logical place for such a device. It did not escape Snake that, unlike her 'sisters,' Mantis had not sprung from her outer suit when he had beaten her, but he didn't really care. It was probably because unlike Laughing Octopus, Raging Raven and Crying Wolf, Snakes assault had killed her without leaving her the opportunity to escape the malfunctioning gear. He wasn't really sure why he was taking the time to see the deranged woman's face either. For that unknown, his only explanation was perhaps a need to know exactly who it was that had so mercilessly murdered someone who he had loved. To have more than just the mask and the screams to haunt his nightmares. His finger found the release clasp along the base of the spine, and with a hiss the faceplate separated from its backing, and Snake removed it.

The gasp of confusion that escaped his mouth coincided with the sound of the slide of a handgun being drawn back. Cock-and-lock, rotating action, .50 calibre, held a few inches from his head. Raising his hands, Snake slowly stood away from Mantis, or rather the FROG which had been stuffed into Mantis' armour. As the chest and torso shells shrugged aside sluggishly, jamming in some places from the damage they had sustained, he saw slashes and stab-wounds around the nameless woman's flanks, pelvis and stomach, ones he was not responsible for.

The sound of the weapon was more than enough information to identify who it was standing behind him, but acknowledging this fact was another story. Drebin finally forced contact through the codec, but it wasn't his newly recognizable voice that Snake focused on. Instead, it was one he was intimately familiar with, one that shouldn't have sent shivers down his spine.

"Snake, do you like me?"


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Metal Gear. Even if I did, I wouldn't have a place to park it.

First off, thanks to those of you who left reviews. Always a pleasure to hear feedback about my work.

And, as i persudo-predicted, this story will be more than two parts. Right now, three or four seems more likely, possibly with a short epilogue tacked on to the end.

Any-who, enjoy, and please continue reviewing.

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Beauty is Only Skin Deep

Part II: The Shallows and the Depths

Solid Snake was normally a quiet man, partly a result of his profession and partly a quirk of his character. Hours spent in situations where breathing too loudly could mean death tended to be an excellent instructor in the art of brevity of word, and on a personal level, Snake generally preferred to let his actions speak for themselves, leaving the long-winded speeches to the coronel. However, neither played a role in the silence greeting the innocent-sounding, almost childish question that came from behind him. The refusal to reply was, in this case, a combination of other things. Namely, a nauseous feeling in his stomach, one so strong that he did not trust himself to open his mouth without running the risk of throwing up, coupled with the sensation that all the air had been driven from his lungs and that his throat had been grasped by an invisible, vice-like grip, preventing him from remedying the former situation. In a very literal sense, his body refused to allow him to answer, because that would require the admission of a terrible, horrific, devastating truth.

Unfortunately, the cripplingly mesmerising voice was unwilling to let him ignore it without a fight.

"Do you like me?"

_This isn't happening! NOT AGAIN! _Snake wordlessly screamed, begged, but the last vestiges of denial were slipping as the voice again reconfirmed what he still wished to reject. The desire to escape the reality of his situation, the fear of the crushing emotional defeat that stood just a stride to his rear, became so strong that it engaged the raw, animal-like fight-or-flight mechanism that military conditioning was supposed to displace. For the good of soldiers, this reflex had to be supplanted with a more rational variant, lest they freeze or panic in times of stress. It had been years since Snake had felt this crude, uncontrolled instinct, so long in fact he had come to believe it's controlled, calculating cousin had actually replaced it completely. However, it would have told him that trying to flee in this position was at best futile, and at worst suicide. But try this vain route of escape he did, and he paid the price.

After taking a sharp step forward in the first pace of a sprint towards the nearest pillar, the weapon being held just behind his head swung down and struck him in the cleft of the neck and shoulder, filling his vision with stars. His wounded legs, usually capable of carrying his body a few steps without the help of his brain buckled instantly. He spun as he fell, and landed hard on his back. From this position on the ground, his assailant was in full view, and when his sight cleared his eyes confirmed what he had dreaded. Unwaveringly training her Desert Eagle directly at his head, Meryl stood over him, her eyes cold and a pitiless, sadistic smile plastered on her lips. She had almost a corpse-like quality to her; even beneath the slick of the FROG's blood her usually warm coloured skin looked flushed and sickly where exposed on the sleeveless, short legged variant of the B&B bodysuit she wore. Her hair was limp and slimy with what looked like equal amounts of blood and sweat, sticking to her forehead and neck. Eye-sockets sunken and dark, she drew breath in rasps as she almost floated towards him, continuing the duplication of the last time she and he had been in this position, each word twisting the knife Snake felt buried to the hilt in his chest.

"Hold me, Snake." She moaned as she approached; the voice sensual, the situation anything but. Still stunned by from the pistol-whip and the miserable scene playing out before him, Snake was a statue. It was all so wrong, and despicably unfair. It had seemed her life had finally moved beyond the curse meeting him had laid upon her; having found comfort with Johnny, her own sense of self that was beyond the hero-worship she had displayed for him... for lack of a better concept, a life all her own. Soon she would have been rid of him all together, the sooner the better from his point of view. But no, once again because of her fleeting association with him she was tortured, her existence shattered and fractured. Destruction of lives, it seemed, was a talent so strong to him that it fell upon everyone he came into contact with, even ones he endeavoured and prayed would be immune to it.

Meryl's course had brought her over his legs by the time his mind began processing information in an even rudimentally analytical manner. Without losing her aim, Meryl dropped to her knees and straddled his stomach. She was cold, so cold he could feel the chill even through his suit; however, she did not shiver but was as still as only the dead were. The physical contact was enough to focus Snake's thoughts back into the previous rush to extradite himself from this place by any means, but once again it was a meaningless gesture.

"Hurry... hurry..." She whispered, almost as if she were oblivious to him as he began to turn on his side and tried to slide out from under her legs, but the struggle and any thoughts of her unawareness ended abruptly when she jammed the muzzle of her oversized sidearm under his chin. The unflaggingly dark grin conveyed her willingness to follow through with the threat, and Snake reluctantly stilled. With a sigh and an abrupt, disconcerting giggle, Meryl lowered her head to beside his and began nuzzling his unblemished cheek, still distressingly whispering to him.

"Make love to me..."

There was no way to force his way out of these circumstances. In his grief-triggered indecision, Meryl had established a position of advantage that would be difficult to overcome against an opponent he had no compunction in killing, and that was not the case here. He had difficulty stomaching the idea of striking this woman, no matter how hostile and lethally inclined she was towards him, let alone embarking on the deadly series of actions that would be required to disengage her from his frame without becoming exactly one head shorter. That left him with his weakest skill-set, the spoken word.

"Meryl, stop this. This isn't you." He grunted out. He knew it was weak, that she deserved more, but it was all he could do.

"But what is me, Snake? Do you know?" She asked, raising her head to look into his eyes again, running her free hand through his hair. Apparently not really wanting an answer, she dropped her gaze back down again before continuing. "I am nothing but that which those around me have created. An Ocelot, an Octopus, a Raven, a Wolf, a Mantis, and two Snakes... the ghosts of my past that shaped me. Turncoats, liars, madmen, sadists, murders, tyrants, deserters... What else was I to become?"

"So much more, Meryl." Snake replied, choking back the cracks that threatened to destroy his voice. "You were supposed to move on, to forget about us, to live. What about the _people_ of your present and future? What about Jonathan, and Ed? What about Johnny? Even I can tell that you... that you love one another."

Meryl giggled again, and raised herself into a sitting position, still holding the Desert Eagle to his neck and running her other hand down his chest, up her own, stopping with her fore and middle finger at her lips. She froze in that position for a moment, before like a cobra she snapped back down, her face hovering dead center with his own, with only fractions of an inch separating them. Her eyes bored into his, the tingle of her breath meeting his, their scents co-mingling. Dirt, sweat, blood, and cordite. That was her perfume, and his cologne. It reminded him of once upon a time where a naive green rookie had met a cantankerous seasoned veteran in Alaska, and the few months of happiness, the greatest of his life, she had brought him afterwards. It only made the next statement worse.

"Snake, I want you..." She murmured, before moving to kiss him. It was this that finally tipped the scale between the protection of his life and preservation of his humility. No matter who she was now, for the sake of his memory of her he would not let this violation of the innocence she once possessed come to pass. Before their lips could meet, he drove his forehead into hers, and made a grab for the pistol, waiting to be commuted to hell on the easily imparted vehicle of a bullet. Much to his surprise, and a certain degree of disappointment, his hand captured the barrel of the weapon before it went off. Wasting no time he ripped it from Meryl's grasp, and threw the woman's body from his, scrambling away on his hands and heels until he was backed up against the first tier of computer terminals. As Meryl picked herself up off the floor, Snake trained the captured firearm on her, though he might as well have been pointing a toy at her. He could never fire. She seemed to know this too, as undaunted she advanced on him again. In the scant seconds between being face-to-face with him and now, Meryl's appearance seemed to have changed again. She looked taller and slimmer, despite the fact that her shoulders and head sagged, arms limp at her sides. Once back in earshot, Snake noticed the rasping in her voice had taken on a distinctly more metallic, echoing quality, almost as if she were now breathing through a tube. Or a gasmask.

"You really don't like girls, do you Snake?" She asked, but it was not her in her pitch. It was a voice that, if there was in fact a god, should never have been heard by human ears ever again. The grating timbre belonged to Psycho Mantis, a man Snake had seen die with his own eyes.

"I assemble a force of the most beautiful, deadly, cold hearted women in the world, whose only desire is someone to hold them, and you cast them aside like they were nothing. And I present the one woman you have ever cared for to you on a platter, and you resist."

"Why her, Mantis?!" Snake roared, standing but not making a move towards Meryl. He had been right, it hadn't been her. Mantis, somehow, had taken control of her mind, even from beyond the grave.

"Believe me, if I had had a choice this would have been the last person I would have decided on." Mantis replied flippantly. "She was, and still is, a useless woman. Weak, feeble minded, disgustingly compassionate. But, her's was the last mind I touched before you destroyed my old body, and you know what they say about beggars not having the luxury of being choosers. I must admit, however, her trusting nature did make it easier to control her once I had established myself in her mind."

"You son of a bitch."

"But don't let me take all the credit, Snake. Even with the echo of my consciousness embedded in her, I could never have gained a foothold without you."

"What do you mean?" Snake rebuffed aggressively, confused and bothered in no small way by the suggestion that he had somehow played a role in this depraved state of affairs.

With a chuckle, Mantis allowed his voice to slip back into Meryl's softer tenor, and brought her body language back in line with the woman's natural posture.

"During all the pain and the shame there was one thing I was sure of... a single hope that I held onto... And that hope kept me alive... Snake, I wanted to see you again..."

"Surely that sounds familiar to you, hmm?" Mantis asked once he had finished, returning to his own gravelly speech momentarily. "That Drebin fellow has kept you well informed about the spiral my little girls followed into insanity. Perhaps I should refresh your memory?"

Switching between the suffering tones of the prior three previous Beauties, Mantis recited part of each back story Drebin had given him on them, as if from their own point of view.

"'So I let the fear take control, and I butchered the bodies of the ones I loved, and laughed while I did it. And as I bathed in their blood, it gradually turned from deep red to jet black. To me, it looked like the ink of an octopus.'

'One by one, their bodies were picked apart by raven's beaks, until finally the flock came for me. But by some miracle, their beaks cut my bonds instead. And like that, I was liberated. In that instant, I was filled with an uncontrollable rage, and it smothered my soul. I ripped the ravens picking at me to pieces and then went after the soldiers. And when I finally caught up with them, I waited until nightfall like a hunter awaiting its prey. They say when a raven cries, a man dies. And that's exactly what happened that night. Screeching and cawing, I killed every last being in that camp, both the soldiers and the civilians they'd enslaved.'

'My brother wasn't crying anymore. Horrified, I pulled my hand away, covered in sweat and spit. He wasn't breathing. They say wolves eat their own pups when they die. I was spotted wandering through the thick of battle carrying my dead brother in my arms. I had visions too – a wolf walking alongside me. Every night, the wolf would howl and cry, just like my brother did that day.'"

The recreations of their voices was so flawless Snake could almost see their tormented faces overlay on Meryl's as Mantis mimicked.

"Didn't it ever occur to you," the twisted man behind Meryl's skin asked, "that Meryl should be just like the rest of my Beauties? The woman endured traumas that no normal person should have to cope with, yet she displayed no serious psychological damage."

"Ocelot's torture?" Snake asked, cursing himself for not considering what was in hindsight such a clearly plausible connection. Mantis cut back to Meryl's voice.

"And things worse than that. When I resisted his electrocution treatments, he decided to try another approach. Ocelot had me stripped and bound, and deactivated the sexual suppressants in the Genome Soldiers. I was beaten. I was violated. Dozens of men, ones I had bunked with, even considered friends, all participated without hesitation. Following orders. I was about to break, when I saw you Snake. You told me to hold on. To let you be my strength."

Mantis smiled at the wide-eyed look of disgust on his room-mates face.

"Do you understand, Snake? Each of those wretched souls bundled all those horrific experiences up and turned them into some apparition, some avatar of their pain. An octopus, a raven, a wolf... At first it was a shield that they hid behind, but in the end it consumed them. Meryl was nothing special, she was hardly able to stand being shot without having an emotional breakdown. But when the time came for her mind to crack under the strain, I used you; took advantage of her love for Solid Snake to carve myself a niche. The only thing that distinguished Meryl from any of the other droves of victims of Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome was that I was there to take the reins of her mind rather than some random psychotic spectre, to take possession of a new body." He paused, crossing Meryl's arms and bathing the room in look of malevolent smugness so strong it seemed to have substance.

"And it is all thanks to you, Snake."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: The Metal Gear and Metal Gear Solid series are the property of the Konami electronic entertainment company and Hideo Kojima. I am not making any money in the writing and publishing of this story.

Sorry for the wait. This chapter was a major SOB to get out. I didn't realize just how much explanation would be needed to flesh my insane narrative progression. Anyway, enjoy and please continue reviewing.

A word of caution though, this chapter is particularly dark, and definitely earns the mature rating.

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Beauty is Only Skin Deep

Part III: Accepting the Beast

"Ironic, isn't it? Unlike the others, this beast has its beauty on the outside." Mantis remarked with a note of perverse amusement in his voice, running Meryl's hands up her body, along the hips and her waist before crisscrossing across her breast and grasping her shoulders, indicating the strong lines and soft curves of her form. Then, cocking her head to the side and meeting Snake's glare with the blue orbs that, despite occupying the proper place on her face, just weren't the same beautiful eyes he had come to know as Meryl's, Mantis smiled. As it was with the eyes, there was nothing of the warm, kind woman he had loved in those lips.

"Now, put down the weapon, David."

"The hell with you Mantis." Snake snapped, tightening up on the grip of the Desert Eagle. Mantis sighed, running his hands through Meryl's hair, stretching idly. The insane puppet master was completely unconcerned about the weapon trained on him, tweaking Meryl's frame again as he reached to the sky, arching her back and standing on the tips of her toes; every motion he made meant to further enrage Snake. And between moments where all other feeling was stripped away in the ebb of defeat, Mantis was succeeding.

"It's not as if it will do you any good. Even you aren't cold enough to gun me down while I'm in this body. Despite all the blood on your hands, you still have a soul. At least, that's what Meryl believes."

"It sounds to me that Meryl is _already dead_." Snake retorted, his words so hot they seemed to burn as they left his mouth.

"Oh, no, no, no, Snake." Mantis chuckled, "She is still _very much_ alive. When I say I control this body, don't think of it as something so mundane as total inhabitance; even with access to all her memories I could not have maintained secrecy without her. Think of this as more of a tenant-landlord agreement. Ultimately I own the place, but she still lives there."

"Sounds like a convenient lie to save yourself from this bullet."

"Ah, but you can never be sure, can you Snake? That's the best part. Even if you're right, and I'm lying, you'll spend the scant remaining days of your life wondering if you were wrong. Wondering if, in your haste to kill me, you also murdered an innocent, a friend, a lover."

Mantis' words stymied Snake for a moment, and the handgun drooped just a fraction of an inch. The fervency dropped from his voice.

"All that doesn't matter. Meryl would rather be dead than be your puppet."

"Strong words from the man on the safe side of that gun, Snake." Mantis lectured sarcastically, crossing Meryl's arms and beginning to pace. "You're right of course, if there was no other way, she would have you kill her. However, that isn't the case; killing Meryl isn't necessary."

The pistol flicked back up suspiciously.

"What?"

"Don't you think she might prefer that I just cut her strings and walk away?" Mantis asked, as an ominous smile flowed across his lips.

"Somehow I don't think that's very likely to happen."

"What? No confidence in my good will, Snake?" Mantis replied, stopping for a moment and brining Meryl's arms up in mock surprise.

"I would sooner put my trust in a viper." Snake growled.

Mantis' smile broke as he returned to pacing and began laughing. It took several long, painful moments, for him to contain himself.

"Hmm. Too true. No, this is not an act of charity. I want something in exchange."

"And that would be?" Snake asked in a mix of apprehensive curiosity and trepidation. The look Mantis wore, like a cat that had cornered a mouse but decided to toy with its prey before making the kill, signaled a threat was lurking in the shadows.

"You, Snake." Mantis breathed, halting back in the position he where had originally stood, staring the old dog of war down. "I already told you, this body is worthless. Even worse, if Liquid manages to gain complete control of John Doe, I will become a puppet myself. You, however," Mantis gestured towards his co-habitant, "in even your currently decrepit form, are a far superior specimen. Your mind is stronger, your body the pinnacle of human development. You know things, have experience and skill that perhaps one before you and none after can begin to approach. And most important if I am to survive and combat Liquid's new world order, your nano-machines are incapable of stripping control away from your consciousness."

"Combat Liquid!?" Snake snarled in indignation, "You helped him get here!"

Mantis shook Meryl's head slowly, as if lecturing a child.

"Don't you remember what I told you on Shadow Moses? I tagged along for the bloodbath, not because I believed in the revolution. I never have shared Liquid's vision of a warrior's world, and I never will. I am not a warrior. A society based on pseudo-Spartan ethics, where only the strong survive, holds no appeal to me. I need the weak and the corrupt, people to manipulate and control, like I need air to breathe. I require the shadows of deception, the frenzies of betrayal, the waves of vanity, and the rushes of self-preservation to sway in my favor. Honor, loyalty, selflessness are not only of no use to me, but are the antithesis of my power. Those emotions make the will of men resistant to the chains of my dominance." He paused. "But, helping Liquid take control of the planet had its advantages. The prospect of seeking my revenge upon you; drawing you out of hiding, being able to prepare such a... feast of despair for your conscience... And plunging the world into chaos, striking at the one thing you have always found solace in. Preventing world catastrophe, forestalling the apocalypse; the absolution that, no matter the depths of the hell you had to traverse and the number of times your soul was tarnished, ultimately you're existence had some value."

Reaching Meryl's hand out in a mock gesture of concern, Mantis taunted his opponent.

"How does it feel, Snake? To know that even your one redeeming quality has been proven moot, and that civilisation is crashing around you? That you've failed, not only Meryl, but humanity in its entirety?"

"Liquid hasn't won yet, Mantis." Snake replied quietly, his eyes losing focus on his antagonist, even the greatly diminished steel left in his voice feeling forced.

"Look at yourself, Snake." Mantis exclaimed mirthfully, "You can hardly stand. Do you really think you're body can survive the microwave defences just beyond that corridor?"

"I'll take my chances."

"Quite a gamble, considering the world is the ante." Mantis commented, re-crossing his arms, "And what of Meryl? Another sacrifice on the altar of this most dangerous game you play?"

"Even if I believe you would take down JD, what makes you think you can make it through the corridor any better than me?" Snake barked. With no hope to draw on, he propelled his statements with raw anger, even though he wasn't entirely sure why he bothered at all. It was all just a game to Mantis, one it seemed he willingly allowed him to play.

"Simple Snake. I have the access codes to deactivate the security network protecting John Doe."

"And what's to stop you from just killing Meryl out of spite once I'm out of the picture?"

Mantis sighed wearily, apparently growing tired of trying to convince his opponent of the how and the why.

"Snake, the way I see it, you have two options. Either kill me, and possibly Meryl, and proceed on with a minuscule chance of actually completing the mission, or trust me, free Meryl from my influence, and have a guarantee of disabling SOP. The world will endure. What I'm asking of you is no different than what you have risked before. And even if I was to kill Meryl, at least she will die on her feet, rather than on her knees. Isn't that the sentiment you were depending on to absolve you of killing her in the first place?"

Solid Snake did not like to lose. It had been said that in battle it was as if he was possessed by a demon, and that demon was that glimmer of voracious defiance. It was the failure-is-not-an-option attitude that made him such a formidable opponent. Mantis' statement about odds and his inability to complete the mission aggravated that defiance, and it provided Snake with an outlet. One that split the difference between forsaking his friend and leaving the fate of the world in the hands of a man hardly worth the description.

"Actually, there's a third option. I knock you out, so you can't harm Meryl. Then I contact Otacon and tell him where to pick her up. God only knows, they can take better care of her then I can. And I worry about the microwave corridor myself."

"Let me get this straight, Snake. You want to protect Meryl from a fragment of a monster that only exists on the mental plane, by isolating her in her unconscious mind?" Mantis snorted incredulously, "You, of all people, should know that one of the most basic rules of combat is to never allow an enemy the comfort of home-field advantage."

"At least this way you can't physically hurt her. Like your home-field advantage, the pain you inflict won't be real."

Mantis sneered, and shifted Meryl's stance again, placing one hand on her hip.

"I think you would be surprised just how _real_ dreams can seem when you are unconscious Snake. Memories too. Particularly when you can't wake up, reliving experiences in that fashion can be quite disturbing; sometimes the hallucinations can even be worse than the real thing."

Suddenly, the hand resting on Meryl's hip shot up to her chest. Snake flinched involuntarily, though he wasn't sure why. Mantis was still a few meters distant, and had no weapons. And the move proved to be innocuous, Mantis just gesturing slowly with Meryl's open palmed hand, flipping it over and back, seemingly examining it. However, something about the stance made him uneasy. It was familiar, in the way that a trying to follow a street you had only been down once before was. He recognized things, but it didn't quite translate into understanding. Gazing up into the distance at nothing, Mantis continued, his tone darkening.

"For example, having a sniper make target practice of your joints isn't exactly what I would call enjoyable. However, when it actually happens, shock dulls the pain. After one or two bullets tear into you, it's just not the same level of hurt. In your mind though, you can suffer through it..."

Mantis turned his gaze back to Snake as he spoke, but when their eyes met Snake immediately noticed that whatever maliciousness that had clouded them had vanished; they were once again Meryl's eyes. And they were terrified. It was that that finally completed the puzzle of fuzzy, half recalled memories and Snake remembered where he had seen that exact series of motions before, and what was about to happen next.

Suddenly, Meryl's body lurched backward, as if she was struck by some unseen force, and her right leg crumpled. A scream, one that Snake knew was identical right down to its very core to the one Meryl had uttered when Sniper Wolf had originally choreographed this bleak ballet, pierced the air just before her left leg was blown backwards by the second imagined, but none-the-less brutally substantial bullet.

It was horrifying to witness the body so flawlessly recreate a confluence of such suffering with its own muscle and emotional memories as a perfect script. Just as she had before, Meryl defiantly drew the illusionary Desert Eagle, only to have her elbow snapped back under the energy third slug. As the limb collapsed, she rolled onto her back crying out again, and began reaching futility for the non-existent firearm.

"... over and _over again."_

Snake dropped to where Meryl was writhing, grabbing hold and locking eyes with her, hoping he could somehow snap her out of the nightmare. But in looking into the pain-filled blue windows to her soul, Snake was appalled to see no hint of recognition of his presence. She was completely unaware of the outside world, he realized, locked inside a predetermined narrative of torment orchestrated solely by Mantis.

In the same instant of this comprehension, Meryl's form jerked sharply under his touch, and her screams returned with new strength. Shocked, Snake released his hold, and Meryl quieted somewhat.

"You learn quickly Snake." Mantis jeered, occupying only Meryl's lips as the rest of her quivered in agony. "It would be wise not to touch Meryl again; wherever you do, she will feel another shell pass through her. And she'll never pass out from blood loss, or because the pain becomes too great. This can go on as long as I like, at whatever rate I desire."

"Mantis... stop this." Snake said, struggling to maintain his composure. For a moment, Mantis seemed to follow Snakes command, as Meryl stilled and lay back on the floor, her arms and legs spread in a star position. But after a moment, in a way that defied natural explanation Meryl rose from the floor, her limbs remaining rigid the whole time, to an upright posture. To his dismay, as he backed away Snake again recognized the events playing out before him, though indirectly. The way Meryl was position was exactly as he had been when he had been strapped into Ocelots torture device. He met Meryl's stare again, dismayed but not surprised to see that she was still awake, and trapped behind her eyes in whatever world the corrupted portion of her mind created, oblivious to him. She hung in that pose, held in position by the psychosomatic frame, as Mantis spoke again.

"But, Meryl is a soldier. She should be used to that sort of pain, or at least on some level prepared for it. However, what about having fifteen hundred volts of electricity passed through her body? Having every single nerve set aflame, with no refuge. Ocelot always had to be careful not to overdo it with his device, too easy to inadvertently kill someone. But here, there is no need to worry about burns or cardiac arrest; no permanent physical damage at all, but the pain will be just as exquisite."

With that, the parts of Meryl's body that weren't restrained on the imaginary device snapped taunt, and strained against one another as the mentally induced electrical pulses ran through her frame, a disjointed shriek escaping between her teeth as her jaw clenched and unclenched.

Desperate to do something, Snake grabbed hold of one of Meryl's elevated arms without thinking, trying vainly to pull her down from her crucifix-like suspension. But her arms were like iron, held fast with unholy strength. And Mantis again used his physical contact as justification to increase the ferocity of his assault. He felt the muscular gesticulations beneath her skin amplify along with the fictitious voltage, in time with Meryl's jaw snapping shut with so much torque that he could hear the teeth cracking against one another. Recalling himself, Snake dropped away, and was forced to watch the entire duration of the session, helpless. After a further 30 seconds, Meryl slumped, falling to the ground again. This time, she remained on the floor, Mantis curling her up in an upright fetal position. Like before, her eyes stared off at some unseen spectacle, aimless in the real world, overwhelmingly fearful. Unlike the first two recreations, Snake could not identify anything about how this was going to play out. But judging from the pattern, he had some idea about what might be a possibility.

"Now, physical pain has its limitations, no matter the kind, even when its quantity is limitless." Mantis continued matter-of-factly, completely composed, like he was teaching a seminar rather than torturing someone. "The will can be stubborn, even feed of it. Maybe then, pain isn't the solution at all... maybe its shame; a direct attack on the will itself. That was a concept Ocelot understood almost as well as I do. The only problem is, it takes time to break a person like that. But, in the mind's eye, even a few minutes can be eternity. What happens if you spend that eternity feeling that you are worthless, that you are filth? That you aren't even human?"

With a whimper, Meryl's head was slammed into the ground by whoever was inside the memory with her. She lay, momentarily stunned by the impact, as her arms and legs were roughly drawn together behind her by the invisible tormentors. By the time she had regained her composure enough to struggle, it was clear that both her limbs had been tied. From the muffled noises she made, it seemed that her mouth had been gagged as well.

"Mantis! No! Don't do this!" Snake begged, standing over Meryl but afraid to touch her, lest Mantis use the contact as an excuse to increase the pace he inflicted his punishment for a third time. But the sadist ignored him completely this time, through with his games. It was no longer about the psychic enjoying himself; it was now submit or watch Meryl be destroyed. It took all of half a second of Meryl twisting and bucking as the hallucination reached the point where her pants were removed to force Snake's hand.

"Alright Mantis! I accept! I accept! Just... don't hurt her anymore..."

Satisfied, Mantis halted the sordid duplication and stood. Thankfully, he suppressed Meryl so that he again occupied her entire body; it was a miserable relief, not to have to look into Meryl's wounded eyes anymore.

"So you do have a heart after all, David."

Mantis had won. And, more disturbingly, he had managed to convince Snake that giving up his body to him might be the best case scenario. Witnessing that sick display had taken any doubt that Meryl was indeed still alive somewhere inside her vassalated body and laid it to waste. It _was _her that had been screaming in agony, not some mimic of her; this he was as sure of, without reservation or proviso. And after proving that, there was only one thing left holding him back from agreeing long before this point.

That sticking point was Liquid. Snake wasn't particularly worried about Mantis spreading the FoxDie virus. Otacon had placed a tracking beacon somewhere in his body, purposefully keeping its location secret. He knew Philanthropy could find him, and once they located his possessed body they would do what had to be done. And, for all Mantis' deceitfulness, Snake believed he could be trusted to destroy SOP. Even if his body's nanobots couldn't control him, they could still kill him if so commanded. So, it served the egomaniacal monster to remove that threat. But risking his new body going after Liquid did not.

"I know what you're thinking Snake." Mantis admonished softly, "But is your primal eldest curse truly worth Meryl? Hasn't your intrusion into her life inflicted enough pain and suffering? Can't you believe she can take care of the world in your absence? Is your trust in her so lacking, when her trust for you has so unyielding?"

Initially, Snake answered with silence. Even more than stopping the next iteration of Metal Gear, his entire life had become about ridding the world of Big Boss' progeny. As long as Liquid lived, he would be a threat to this world. But, whatever self-interested purpose his saying this accomplished him, Mantis' was right. The time had come to admit the trust and respect that Meryl had earned, to believe in her, as she had believed in him.

And so, for the first time in his life, Snake conceded victory to another.

"What do I have to do?"

"Allow Meryl that which she yearns for Snake. Hold her, and in turn let her hold you."

Snake took in a sharp breath, but nodded, and let Mantis approach. When Meryl's body opened her arms, eerily like the three preceding Beauties had, he stood his ground. And as they closed around him, he returned the gesture, wrapping Meryl in his embrace; holding her tightly despite the unsettling coolness of her body. Or, maybe it was because of it; maybe it was his body doing its best to emulate what his psyche was, trying to warm Meryl's frame, as its cerebral counterpart set about freeing her spirit. Sacrificing itself. The act, in spite of the fact that it represented his end, felt soothing.

"And now, David, let go of your mind." Mantis whispered into his ear, using Meryl's voice again. Unlike all the previous times though, this time it didn't make him shiver. This time, it reminded him of what he was saving, and it convinced him that this was worth what he was giving up.

So, Snake did as he was told, allowed his guard to drop, and let the tendrils he could feel creeping into his mind take hold without protest. As they did, he could sense his consciousness dissolving, evaporating like morning dew in the bright light of the sun. Silently, he said a farewell that none would hear, but all deserved.

_Goodbye Hal. To the friend who refused to leave me to stand alone, I remind you of the same lesson. Death is not defeat. Don't let yourself believe otherwise._

_Goodbye Jack. Don't let war hollow you as it has me. Find something to live for, and do not let it go._

_Goodbye Roy. Despite all the times you haven't been able to be truthful to me, there is no man I would sooner trust with my life._

_Goodbye Sunny. Thank you for trying to make us a family. It is something I never had, and even if I never showed it, what you did gave me a comfort I never knew before._

_Goodbye Meryl. I hope that with my death, you can finally find peace._

And then the world went black.

* * *

If all goes according to plan, the next chapter should wrap this story up. (Note: Revision 2. Corrected misspelling of Sunny, and did a few minor grammatical changes)


End file.
